The Main Domain
by CodyRhodesFan
Summary: A bunch of little stories written on request with submissive!Snape tortured in any way, shape, or form. Give us your preferred up of angsty tea/pairing. SLASH. First one: Dark!Lupin's desires. Request all you want! ;D
1. The Deafening Silence  Part 1

**This first one is kinda boring to be honest, but do not be discouraged as I've nothing to write about and this just sprung to mind. I kinda wanted to practice writing a darker side of Lupin so I did. I tried to add as much Snape as possible without sounding it centric on Lupin but I couldn't resist! Sorry my guys. The next ones will be full of Snape, I assure you. **

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><p><span>The Main Domain<span>  
>Rated: +18 – language; violence; awesome sad stuff right here<br>Summary: a bunch of little stories written on request with Snape being submissive and tortured in any way, shape, or form. Gimmie us your preferred up of angsty tea/pairing and let's get to work. SLASH.  
>Genre: Angst<p>

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><p><span>The Deafening Silence<span>  
>Summary: <em>Lupin's jealous. He shouldn't be.<em>  
>Pairing: <em>LupinSnape, Snape/James_  
>Methods of angst: <em>dark love, jealousy, love of pain, secrecy, dark!Lupin, silent suffering, James bashing<em>  
>Parts: <em>11?_  
>Requested: <em>no request<em>

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><p><strong>Lupin<strong>

I was jealous of James – _deeply undeniable jealous_.

He loved _**her**_. Why the hell would he want to get my prize? Sirius asked me what was wrong and I told him nothing was wrong _except Moony was bloody angry at James because he was stealing away the only person he was secretly in love with ever since he really looked at those dark eyes of him_. I remembered those days that I'd pass by James' room and see Snape curling up towards him. He was tiny for his age, thin, small, delicate, butterfly – nearly ten times prettier than her and I was with _**her**_. I hated the scent of _**her**_ hair. I wanted _him_.

I watched James countless of times, stealing away his invisibility cloak and hiding in the background with wide eyes as James encircled a perfect nail into Snape's thigh, and I could hear Snape's harsh breathing. Polyjuice potions helped paint lies. James, it wasn't _**her**_. Snape will never be _**her**_. Stop touching _him_. Maybe it was just a little bit of jealousy but it killed. I wanted to touch Snape's skin so badly. Bruise it, mark it as my own. My possession never to be touched by James again and those pretty little purple-blue bruises would be in the shape of my heart.

When James had seen me with Lily, anger spread in him like a virus. I still snaked my arms around her waist and kissed her. I nearly made his heart burn every minute he stared back at me and when he told me that he had wanted Lily for years, I just stared back at him _I've wanted Snape even longer _and produced the fakest smile, telling him I hadn't known.

He hit me.

Lily came to my aid, screaming at James, which just made poor Remus look more like a poor old sod. She 'nursed' me back to health but forgot the most horrible emotionally inflicted wounds that I'd allowed to carve out my heart and skin. Sirius told me it wasn't cool and I wanted to retort that it wasn't cool either when James stole my beloved away from my hands. I could still hear Snape's sharp breathing and could still see glittering eyes, softly begging in the darkness, could still hear the hushed breathing of "_hurt me, James. Make me feel worth of something"_ and James wouldn't care about the emotional pain Snape was going through.

Snape seemed to show up around classes with more and more cuts and bruises, every cut seemed to puncture through my heart and every bruise felt like it was directed towards me and days and days after, I lied in bed thinking...why did James hate me so much? I wanted to abuse. I wanted to hurt. I wanted to hold. I wanted to cry. I wanted a million different emotions to burst open like a wound and be left untreated.

"You knew about Lily," James spat out darkly to me day after day. "You had to know," his voice was weaker afterwards.

Was it just cruel that I didn't care? I was becoming the monster that I didn't want to become, penetrated and triggered by James. Countless of times, I've been caught staring at Snape, just daydreaming and James was too clueless to understand the pure concept of my addiction, my obsession. He was too blind in the path of lilies and daises that he didn't notice such a delicate beauty before him, Snape could be even more beautiful than every lily in the world – and it was something about those lips and it was something in those eyes and it was something in feeling that skin –

**It**. _Broke_. Me.

I cornered James one afternoon.

James opened his mouth to speak but the truth spun out of my lips faster, the words rolling off my pink tongue, sliding effortlessly. "I'm jealous of you."

The first thing he did was laugh then glare at me with some sort of coldness in his eyes. "Why? You've got Lily. What more could you possibly want?" The man you keep abusing with fingers and teeth bites. I want to rip him apart with my revolting werewolf teeth, inflict the pain he longed for, make him relish in the reality of the situation... after all, pain was _real_. This was the only way to prove love I'd learned. I had to be in pure and utter pain to describe the pure reality of love. Love was built on tests and agony, and could only be proved by so—

And Snape wanted to be hurt. His Father abused him and Daddy was dead and now he wanted solace. He wanted pain to feel close to someone again and I was the same (_years of being fucked up had its advantages after all_).

"I am jealous every night," I let out a breath that felt like it was being held in for years, "that you take Snape like he's a nobody and just hurt him like that...sexually..."

The shock on James' face was priceless. I was Remus fucking Lupin, the sweetest person on the face of the Earth that peed rainbow piss and drank unicorn cupcake happiness for breakfast, why would I want to use and abuse? But the thoughts never exited my mind. My one and only friend had no idea of who I truly was, the person I'd let myself become – and years after much abuse from peers, the only way a werewolf loved was to inflict pain, bites and scratches and little red cuts that marked their prey as theirs—almost as if telling other werewolves to not touch the prey. "Remus..."

"You can have _**her**_. I don't like ramming her up the wall anyway. I always just wanted _him_," I whispered softly. For some reason, the look on his face, the shock that had created so much anguished understanding allowed me to feel as emptier, hollow, and left filthy and rotten. I truly realised my intentions then, cruel and disgusting, but could I have told James that I still wanted to be so vile? That I needed it? That I needed..._him_? That I needed to punish and inflict him with pain _until I was guilty enough to somehow kill myself and nobody would care_?

"Remus!" he exclaimed again, holding onto my shoulders and looking at me. Eyes softening they looked more like liquid. "You're hurting yourself with all of these thoughts. Is this about all the times that Sirius and I played pranks on you? Is this some sort of need for dominance? Because, I'm so sorry—"

Then I said the words I didn't think I'd ever say.

"_It's a werewolf thing. You won't understand."_

James gasped. I'd truly lost my own humanity he'd concluded. He stared at me as if watching a friend dead, with such paleness and shock to his face. But he'd allowed me to have Severus in exchange for me dumping Lily and within a week, Lily and James were together and—he'd left me. He didn't care that I'd lost my mind. There was so much satisfaction in him leaving me. It just showed he didn't care. I didn't deserve care. I was vile to my intentions and I wished I could fucking stop.

But sometimes, when I was pinning Snape to the wall, nails in thighs, werewolf bites covering his flesh viciously, as I pounded in and out of him again and again – with such a inhuman force that it made both of us disappear into the pain for a moment. I cradled him sometimes and I cried into his chest whilst he remained silence.

**He** – _she_ – we – were always just _silent_ in bed.

The silence lingered like perfume to the brain. Lily was pregnant. She came around and puked and cried and told me that the baby was in no way James as she'd experienced the morning sickness and all sorts of other things when we were dating but to my complete and utter relief, the baby had not carried the werewolf gene that condemned emotion from me. I held her, hugged her, embraced her to the very bone and watched Snape stare at us in complete and utter _silence_.

Snape was always one to fight, but now he was just so fucking _silent_. I didn't know if we broke a nerve in his brain or made him lose his passions then he brewed potions and potions and there were circles under his eyes as he'd given Lily countless of potions to help ease her pregnancy then one to allow the child to look like James. He made countless and countless of potions for a man that used him to pretend to be Lily, fucked him, abused him – _and I was so fucking jealous. Oh, you have no idea_. I just wanted to slap him back into thinking I was perfect for him because we were perfect for each other, dammit. He thrived off the pain that I gave him and I relished in my destructive half, watching myself wallow away into madness, drowning into painful waters and I could remember days where I'd slash his wrists, splash his cuts with firewhiskey and hiss at him, call him worthless—**because I felt worthless. I felt so worthless. **

"_Harry, you look just like your Father."_

Nobody ever wondered if he'd looked too unusually like his Father because they were fucking stupid. They were still fucking stupid when I put on acts of kindness and niceness – sometimes, I felt like I was really acting throughout my life and then the night came and Severus would be into my arms again. Then James died.

And my child, my Harry, did not even know I was the real Father. He didn't know that reality was harder and more cruel than he'd ever imagine. When Sirius and I met again, he and I exchanged smiles and glances and an embrace. It was warm and cold and made me feel sad. I lied. I lied over and over again and again.

I didn't talk to Snape much. The only time I really went to him was for the potions. I didn't know if he grew out of the pain phases during high school or not but God, he looked so pretty. His depression hung on him like perfume and it was rather pretty. I wondered if I'd ever love him if he was ever happy for once in his life – if he was not cruel-hearted Snape, pushing me around and insulting my existence as a werewolf—because I deserved the abuse.

Snape looked at me. I was weak. I was weaker than weak. He snorted, sarcastically speaking, 'nice robe. James (_he – she – we – complete jealousy_) had something like it before."

I ripped that robe. I think I ripped a bit of my flesh too but (_that's okay_).

I was disgusted with myself. A vile creature that still wanted to hurt Snape, had dreams of hurting him with belts, stinging skin in ten different ways – _maybe that was why Harry seemed more akin to Slytherin than anyone else thought, maybe this was somehow all my fault and Voldemort's rising was somehow related to me but the thoughts were as the truth, maybe Snape knew_ –but all of it was...

Completely buried in _silence_.

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><p><strong>Just request away, my dears. How many parts do you want? One-shot, two-shot, a bit lengthy... what type of angst do you want? Mpregnot? Slashy or slashy? I only do slash, peoples and if you want one that has different pairings, sure! Your call, guys. That's kinda the point of this, hence the very, very weak and stupid beginning to it. I don't know what you guys like as of yet ;D. Let's see what you come up with. Remember! Submissive/bottom Snape because this place lacks it (not entirely) but we could sure use more! So...pairing – type of angst – specifics – and length of what you want please! :3**

**Xx Sam **


	2. The Deafening Silence  Part 2

**Thanks to green24 for the review. :3 Love you guys xx**

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><p><span>The Deafening Silence <span>  
>Summary: <em>Lupin's jealous. He shouldn't be.<em>  
>Pairing: <em>LupinSnape, Snape/James_  
>Methods of angst: <em>dark love, jealousy, love of pain, secrecy, dark!Lupin, silent suffering, James bashing, <em>_**mpreg**_  
>Parts: <em>2?_  
>Requested: <em>green24 – requested mpreg and Snape's side of the story so thus, here it is. <em>

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><p><strong>Snape<strong>

James promised. His promise was as _silent_ as his fingernails touching the bare skin of me, the nails digging sharply and his hot breath across my face—_this bloody addiction was getting the best of me_.

I didn't think I could breathe. He made me feel as weak as ice melting over water. I wasn't weak around many, but he knew every breaking point in me – dislocating me into a world far beyond imagination and existence, reminding me of the pain I deserved (_Severus, get me my makeup bag – I need concealer to hide...these love marks_). The love marks were merely nothing but purple-and-blue bruises from the hits that she'd received from my Father. He throttled, hit, screamed – and she stayed there, taking it and bearing it silently. Then turned around with the same calm, bearing expression as she asked for me to pass over the white-and-beige bag that had slipped past the tiles when he'd hit her out of her chair and I could remember visions of smearing red against her lips. She'd laugh; say she was a complete klutz when applying make-up but the blood told another different story.

So, this was it, as my Father held my shoulder, and I swore I could always feel his warm lips near my cold ear as he whispered, "you are so much like your Mother." And I knew what he meant, because every time he snaked his arms around my waist to feel the bone he cracked underneath the ribcage _such a soft sound to break the silence_, every time he smirked at blood seeping_– I did nothing_. I remained silent, as silent as the cold ending night that betrayed my honour and trust. And as James hit me, and bullied me and threw me around _– I did __**nothing**_.

Then my Father had died but there was no relief flying away from my soul as I'd never got a chance to say the words I've always wanted to say, murmur a "_Please, stop_" and so, _this wasn't abuse_ as I'd never defended myself as she'd taught me to accept my position as underneath him and take it as it was. This was always the case with James as well, and I knew despite him being a Gryffindor, he had an ungodly need to torture me and damn my existence – just like my Father had. His departure made me feel alienated from the world, unable to feel, numb and by that point, the only way I knew how to communicate was by the pain as I didn't know any other way to live.

Kindness was something unheard of in the Snape household. Kindness was some sort of different resolve, and nothing would make anyone be kind to me. I whispered softly into James' hear, words that were so soft they barely broke the silence and they could be heard – they really could – if he decided to hear them but instead, he decided to get on top of me, pushing himself inside of me, bruising my hipbones with his constant pounding _thrash! thrash! thrash!_ and such wildness finally reached his eyes, making him go onto a high from the pain that he was giving me.

I was unwanted. The only chance of survival was admitting and accepting and relishing in the pain until I found some sort of authority in me. I was the prey, not the predator. I was beaten, unable to hurt.

Disrupted.

Lupin, common prey, feasted upon my dismay. I could tell from his eyes that there was some sort of weird fascination with me, and this odd fascination spurred out of the moment. His envy fed him until he became what something that he didn't know of himself and he fed himself lies, as I fed myself reality checks, until we were both two people that we couldn't look at in the mirror. We were too alike and I hated him.

I hated _him_ because I hated _myself_.

Him hitting me, pounding against me, throwing me around was almost like a wakeup call – I was punishing myself silently into the midst of past, allowing my passion to deteriorate along with my flesh and body. It was only a matter of time had I'd missed James' touches that were a lot less like me and more like my Father – brutal and demanding, whilst Lupin just spun out of control_, lost, hitting, silent, confused. _

_Me_.

The silence was comforting but I only loved the silence as much as I loved the dark. When I was alone, it was unbearable, the silence, the dark – but together with someone, the darkness seemed a lot more welcoming and the silence along more the lines of words unsaid, as if I could reconstruct days and times where everything went at my own way. Then James dared asked me if what Lupin said was true, if I wanted to be hurt because my Father abused me and since my Father was dead - I stared –

I didn't cry though I was anticipating that tears would slip away. I would spin out of control again and found myself running towards a destination I couldn't reach.

Instead, I felt some sort of pull towards the centre of the Earth that bound my spirit and soul to my emotions and it was not sadness that had taken over me, nor dismay – it was pure and complete anger as I allowed my fists to collide with his stomach. I could only see purple-and-blue bruises (_I need concealer to hide...these love marks. Please_), and hot-white pain ripping across due to pale knuckles and then I stumbled and fell, allowing strands of greasy black to cloud my vision and for some reason, that was when everything just finally snapped – a final piece of the string.

The silence lingered. I wished I told him every word there was in the book. _I love you. I'm scared. Please, hold me. My Father abused me. I couldn't do anything. I could still feel his presence around me and I can't sleep at night because if I do, I'll wake up crying my pathetic little face off. I like being around you, James. Please, hurt me and make me feel real again._ Mixtures of emotions that I couldn't really rely on and instead, I opted for the only emotion I could really rely on – pain. _Just pain._

The same pain that my entire body rippled with when I've heard of Lily's pregnancy and saw James' happy little face as if mocking me, saying that she was better in bed because I couldn't bear the love child that she had inside of her. I instead brewed potions and stayed in the silence I've lived in for so long. _I did nothing_. I did nothing at all, but brew and brew and brew until the scents of the potions penetrated my nose and made me feel like crying.

The only reason that kept me brewing those potions was the fact that I was with child as well, not that anyone gave a fuck but I learned not to care as well. If nobody cared about my wellbeing, why would I as well? It was only after multiple bruises and a possible concussion had Madame Pomfrey showed some sort of sadness upon staring at the bloated stomach I sported around. Nobody asked. The robes that I wore clung onto my skin with sweat and (_lack of_) pride but all was concealed (_like concealer hides love marks, sweetheart_). Whilst Lily got bigger and more known to all, I just shrunk away from public view but all in all, Sirius Black never thought differently when he was to hold onto my hair and tug at it, slam and laugh, stare and wonder.

Whilst Lily got care and gentle words from teachers, I got cold stares and 'fat Snape' rumors going around. Whilst Lily was being held and taking care of, I was being shunned away into the foot of pure cold. When Lily threw up, she had James to hold her but when I had to throw up; I was left to clean up my own mess as Flich made me clean up my own mess and he wouldn't tell anyone of my 'bulimia'. When Dumbledore approached Lily, turning a blind eye to my seven-month pregnancy, he'd talked to her and tried to wonder if she needed any help – even the man that cared about everyone hadn't noticed the bulging stomach of hers.

I gave them nothing but silence.

And the thing that hurt the most?

_They never asked me_. They didn't notice the paleness of my skin after all that throwing up, the unusual weight gain that could not be of eating just a bit more, the back pain that had made me slouch more often than I'd like – and it didn't even occur to them... but then again, it was my fault as well as I said nothing. As Eileen had when she was pregnant with me, eclampsia engulfed me – seizures that pushed me towards unconsciousness, aches that refused to subside and agitation. My pre-eclampsia resulted into hyperthyroidism. How did young Severus know? I heard my Mother speak of it, saying it was a problem most of us had that would explain the evolving anger in me, the irritation that refused to leave me – and it destroyed me, as being a werewolf had destroyed Lupin – we spun out of control because of our condition.

It was then that Severus Snape was really born, the Snape that everyone came to loathe and despise, the prey becoming the predator due to the severe irritation and agitation that was a mere symptom of the pregnancy. The hyperthyroidism allowed my muscles to weaken, thinning the skin that surrounded and protected me, nauseous with low blood sugar but this smaller, more ragged appearance only motivated me to prove them wrong, as to tell them that I had the ability to be strong even though I felt weak.

This was what attracted Lucius to me at first. He'd approached me when I'd been pushed by Sirius against the wall, a shove I was too familiar with and he'd helped me up. He asked about my weight gain and I spoke. I told him. I told him everything. He stared at me, opened his mouth to pause, and then told me with a stern voice, 'what are you to do with the child?"

Fate spoke out to me. The child, Draco, was given away to the two that needed an heir the most, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy whom had inherited the money because they were able to produce an heir the fastest. At only seventeen, they were presented with such a blissful child and I didn't get to name nor see him when he was birthed. The hyperthyroidism remained, creating me into the shell of the man that used to be Severus Snape. The skin just got thinner, my muscles weaker, my body shrunk – and no matter how much I ate, I had very little control of how much I weighed, which sickened me.

The day I'd given birth was in the rain, alone, with the child ripping through the very stomach of mine, digging out like a squirrel from the ground, resurfacing to breathe. Lucius arrived hours after it first started to happen, held the baby boy the minute he had breathed and cried, and left me on the cold, hard ground without another word escaping his lips. The blood was as cold as the treatment he'd given me, and it was not like I trusted him but I trusted him to care a little bit more about me, bleeding, dying. I survived. He refused to apologize. But that was fine, because after all, I didn't tell him to stay. I didn't beg. I just stared...I just stared (_this will conceal your little love bites, baby Draco loves you after all, Snape_).

I returned to Hogwarts after two months of disappearance. Nobody noticed my invisibility other than Sirius, that claimed he missed shoving me as he mocked my body shape. The thinner I got, the more violent he'd gotten and the more adamant the bruises had gotten. It was to the point where my weight plummeted to its lowest, lower than it had been at twelve, and whilst my age grew, my body was resisted to growth and remained lanky and too-thin.

Years and years had passed, Draco knew nothing of his origins and it was planned to be kept as so, _I want my baby boy I want my child this isn't fucking fair I want to hold him at least once_ I didn't care much for not being around Draco as much as I wanted to. When Lupin had resigned back to his position, I'd almost given up, cracked and went back to being a predator but not now. I refused to show any signs of pure and utter weakness anymore _hold me, please, hold me I'm scared_.

Lupin ripped his robes after I complimented them. He was wearing something that reminded me more of Sirius than James or himself, and then he moved towards me, drinking another fix of that foul potion with demonic eyes. We were waiting for Albus to suddenly appear with Minerva, as they'd told us to stay there for a quick meeting.

Lupin finally spoke. "Harry's _my_ child," his voice was full of rage and he was shaking.

"..."

"Lupin," I began, and he turned around towards the doorway, noticing a shell-shocked Albus Dumbledore standing with Minerva, that looked like she was going to fully explode.

Lupin finally broke, and it was such a dark, disgusting sight. It almost make me want to break down too. "James took what I wanted so I took what he loved the most, his precious Lily. I didn't even want her but she wanted me. Oh God, did she want me but did I want her? No, I didn't want to do anything with her. I was gay for fuck's sake," Lupin snorted, laughing bitterly. "Lily knew it was mine the minute she'd gotten pregnant and we slightly overdid it on the spells, which is why James and Harry look alike. The slight evilness in Harry? That's because I'm not all too sweet. I'm fighting for the light but the darkness is all fucked up and inside of me. We couldn't risk Harry looking even the tiniest bit like Remus disgusting fucking Lupin...it doesn't matter anyway. It shouldn't have.

"I wasn't ever going to be a good enough Father. James was damn well perfect. The dark arts were really pretty. I forgot how many times I'd done the Cruciatus curse on him when he was asleep and every time, he screamed, fuck, I shouldn't have smiled but...it's not enough. It's never enough. He died and even now, still instead of me, I wanted to hurt him even more. And Sirius had no idea, blank as the sheets he handed in for Potions class. Snape helped brew Lily's pregnancy potions. He helped us cover up because he's such a pretty little cover up." I did nothing when he talked.

"Oh, and little pregnant Snape giving birth on the fucking floor in the damn well rain. I could've done something other than watch him choke on his own blood but that's okay I guess because I'm as invisible as he is. You think people would even give a fuck about Snape's baby but no, poof, disappeared along with the rest of him. I watched him drag himself back there, and it's kind of painful to watch. I should have done something. I should have done something. So I did. I masturbated in his blood. Revolting, sick, vile Lupin..."

I did nothing as I watched him unravel my secrets. "Snape's pregnancy? Oh yeah. That was definitely James' baby, Draco Lucius Potter, is edging more towards the truth as James fucked Snape night after night and it disgusted me. It disgusted me to see him use and abuse. It sickened me to no extent because I couldn't do anything but just sit there in that invisibility fucking cloak and watch him hurt Snape, over and over. Same little story for Snape, broken little family, getting used to the abuse and almost accepting it as a form of love. Of course, nobody knows because nobody fucking cares."

_The silence broken_. Shattered.

I could have punched Lupin but instead I stared at him. "You had no right to say any of that!" I finally screamed out, but I was sure there was something inside of me that screamed _you spoke the words I always wanted to say but in a way that made me sick to be myself_.

"You did nothing." My heart stopped but I realised that Lupin was talking to Dumbledore and Minerva. "If you gave a little bit of a damn and a little less of a blind eye, maybe I'd have turned out half-normal."

Tears collected into Lupin's eyes as he stared back into my face. "Talk." It was such a simple command, yet felt like it would take so much effort.

"Lupin..." I finally spoke out. My voice was full of some sort of pained grief.

"Harry's _my_ son. Draco is _your_ son. This is it. This shouldn't our lives. This shouldn't be anyone's life. It's time to claim what's rightfully ours, our turf. I'm tired of all the pretty little lies and would rather face the repulsive truth," Lupin finally admitted, allowing my heart to bang harder and harder. "Harry had gotten too adhered to James already. Draco's a shadow of Lucius. They don't belong to them. We don't belong to them. Not anymore. I'm tired of playing the doll in the doll's house."

"I agree," the words were full of truth. "I will round up Draco from the Slytherin common room and I suppose the Gryffindors have Quidditch practice right of now. We will meet in my room in about half an hour, how does that sound?" _am I speaking those beautiful words?_

"Perfect."

Lupin, whom was so alike me, who was like a mirror to my soul, spoke those words that punctured through the very being and existence of me. And so, I peeled off that concealer and allowed those purple-and-blue love bites to show. For once, I looked into the mirror and I liked what I saw for the very first time.

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><p><strong>Hopefully, that was okay. ;D Request. Request. Request. (the only way to keep the fic going)<strong>

**xx Samm**


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